Survive
by panda10bears
Summary: What if Thomas had died that day in Wicked when they tried to operate on him? *Set after death cure(book)*
1. Chapter 1

_I'm sorry, stay strong._

 _Thomas_

Brenda threw the computer to the side, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She lay her head on the roots of the tree towering over her, wishing the ground would swallow her up. She could hear her heart thumping in her chest, and with every thud she sank deeper and deeper into an endless pit of despair.

She was pulled out of her grief by an agonising scream. She ran towards the clearing and saw Minho on his knees, a tablet shattered a few feet away. Frypan was in the process of a futile attempt to calm him down, even though he was in tears too.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Gally. Standing at the edge of the clearing, he was half hidden by the trees and she was surprised to see him clutching his chest, the look on his face as if someone had just punched him.

She hadn't known he'd cared.

Hearing her name, she turned back towards Minho, her bleary eyes searching for the person who had called.

Sonya, Aris and the other group B survivors were huddled together in one corner, blank vacant look on their faces, only their eyes showing any sign of loss.

She turned around again, frantically searching for the source of the cry, but she still couldn't work out who had called her name.

 _Brenda._

She heard it again, closer, as though the person had been standing next to her the whole time. Only then did she realise how familiar the voice was.

It was Thomas's.

She gurgled something inaudible, fresh tears cascading down her cheeks. She felt her knees buckle and would have fallen if Jorge hadn't caught her in time.

He pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close and she collapsed against him. He didn't offer any words of comfort, already knowing they would do nothing. Instead he just held her, softly stroking her head as she sobbed uncontrollably, her faced buried in the soft brown leather of his jacket.

* * *

They weren't going to have a funeral. It would hurt too much. But they weren't going to do nothing either.

At the base of the cliff near the burnt-out ruins of the flat trans, a small group stood.

Below the cliff lay a selection of small crosses, each with a few words carefully carved into them.

Minho stepped forward, his knees giving way before he had completely reached crosses. He leant back on his feet, defeated.

"If we had a cross for everyone who died, we would have nowhere to stand"

His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, yet it was carried by the wind and everyone could hear him.

"And the worst…The worst thing about most of them, is that we don't know if they're really gone. I know- I know that we could never have saved them but like Newt, I mean… He could still be alive…"

But there was no hint of hope in his voice. Frypan felt the tears start to trickle down his cheeks. This wasn't the Minho he knew, the Minho he knew would be wanting revenge for the death of his brothers, he would never have given up so quickly. But then again, they had all been broken by what they had gone through. And none of them would ever be completely fixed.

"And Thomas"

Frypan looked up at the crack in his friend's voice.

"He didn't even think we cared. He died believing it was for the best. I wish… I wish I could go back, and tell him how important he was to us all. Maybe then he wouldn't have gone with them so quickly. Maybe then he would've fought back."

Nobody said anything as Minho's voice trailed of and was replaced with racking sobs. They all just started at the ground, consumed by their own grief, until one by one they walked up to the crosses, whispered a few words, and walked away in a vain attempt to escape the pain.

* * *

As the sun set, Brenda walked over and placed a hand on Minho's shoulder, who was still kneeling in front of the crosses.

"He didn't have a choice you know", she whispered.

But anger flared up inside Minho and as his head jerked up to look at her, she saw fire in his eyes. He scrambled to his feet, fists clenched and she stepped back in fear.

"Of course he did! Maybe if he hadn't been such a shank, his shuck-brain wouldn't be on display"

Brenda started at Minho in disbelief, fresh tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"I…I didn't mean that", Minho haltered, realisation hitting him once he understood what he'd just said.

"I loved him too you know", Brenda said through gritted teeth, but the anger re-appeared in the other boys eye's.

"Oh yeah? Or is this just another one of Wicked's games. You worked for them remember. Thomas might have forgiven you but I haven't. I can't believe he ever trusted you."

"Minho I-"

"NO! I don't want to hear it. Two years, I was stuck there for two damn years. And where were you, oh yeah that's right, getting cosy with Wicked. You have no idea how many friends I lost, how many brothers. And there I was thinking Thomas was the only one I wouldn't lose, oh how I was wrong."

"Minho-"

"Leave me alone"

"Hey, you listen-"

"No you listen. The only person I have now is Fry. I don't need you coming here telling me who you think Thomas was. You barely even knew him, what was it, a week? And you already had your tongue down his throat, probably just because he was the 'final candidate', the 'strongest subject'. Well tell me, if he's so strong then why is he dead?"

His shouts were cut of by another chocked sob from Brenda. Was this really what Minho though? Then again, maybe it was all her fault. If she hadn't agreed to work for Wicked none of this would have happened, or at least, she wouldn't have been hurt by it.

She nodded slowly, her eyes staring into the distance," Maybe you're right", she turned and walked away, no more tears, just a numb feeling spreading across her whole body.

Minho stared at the ground, self-hate flowing freely through him. Letting out a frustrated yell, he grabbed his head in his hands and fell back to his knees.

"Everyone's dead, what would be the difference if I was too"


	2. Chapter 2

Why the shuck did you have to die Thomas? I should've tried harder to stop you going. I shoulda' said something, at least said goodbye. I'm no good to anyone, they all just get killed.

Minho took another step. The edge of the cliff only metres away. Memories flasjed through his head.

 _The blood stains on the floor of the mace corridor,_

The cliff,

 _Alby's cries for help as he raced to reach the limp body of his best friend before it was too late,_

Just another step,

 _The screams as Newt yelled 'you shanks shoulda let me die'_

One more,

 _Newt had jumped._

Alby was dead,

Chuck was dead,

Winston was dead,

Newt was dead,

Thomas was dead.

And Minho wasn't?

He didn't deserve to still be alive, after all the pain the others went through, they should have lived, not him.

Minho stepped forward, one foot hovering above the edge of the cliff.

What would one more death matter anyway?

It wouldn't.

No one needed him. Frypan was better of without him and he'd practically told Brenda to go die in a hole.

A single tear trickled down his cheek. He deserved this.

* * *

Frypan looked frantically about the camp. Minho hadn't been in his cabin like he'd said. The last person to see him was Brenda, but she was in no state to tell him anything.

When he had tried to ask her where Minho was, he'd found her huddled in her bed next to Jorge who was killing everyone with the anger in his eyes. His fists clenched dangerously tightly.

Frypan had no idea what Minho had said but it seemed as though he had ripped her heart out. He uttered a frantic apology and staggered out of the room, hopelessness filing him up inside.

He ran through the maze of cabins, scanning faces for a glimpse of his friend. People started at him as he sprinted past, some asking if he was alright. But he couldn't seem to hear them ,it was like all he could here was the pounding of his heart in his head and his feet pounding the ground beneath him.

Something wasn't right. Every time he had gone looking for Minho he'd always found him eventually, but this time was different. He didn't know what it was, but something was definitely wrong.

The pained cry he heard a few moments later answered every question in his head. The sound of his name being called mirrored the pain in Alby's voice when Newt had been dragged from the maze that night.

His heart raced as he sprinted for the cliff. He could see the silhouette of someone standing up there, dangerously close to the edge.

"NO", he shouted, in a futile attempt to get the attention of whoever was standing up there. He wouldn't let anyone else die.

* * *

Everything was a blur. All Minho could think was how he'd let them all down. He'd promised Alby he'd take care of Newt and that failed, he'd promised Newt he'd take care of Thomas and he was dead too. The only person he hadn't let down yet was Fry, and he knew doping this would break his friends' heart.

But he didn't have a choice.

He heard a cry far of, but it was muffled, as though he wasn't really with it. A few seconds later there was another cry, this time closer and more desperate.

One more step.

* * *

It was Minho. The figure standing, ready to greet death with open arms was Minho.

"MINHO", Frypan shouted, but there was no reaction from the boy on the edge of the cliff.

"MINHO STOP"

* * *

His name. His name was being called. Why would anyone want to call his name? Maybe it was to save him, but no, he couldn't let whoever it was stop him. He had to do this. It would be better for everyone.

One more step.

He was so close. MINHO! The voice shook him, it was Frypan. Maybe he shouldn't. But no, if he stopped now then Frypan would be the next dead.

He turned to face the boy sprinting in desperation towards him. Another tear trickled down his cheek.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, and took one step back.


	3. Chapter 3

Survive – Decision

 _White lights._

 _Too many white lights._

 _Too bright, too much._

 _Falling._

 _Falling and falling._

 _Screams._

 _So many people screaming._

 _Just stop._

 _Just make it all stop!_

 _MINHO! MINHO WAKE UP_

Someone was screaming my name. Why the shuck were they so loud? Was there not someone else they could bother? Maybe Thomas or Newt or someone who wanted to deal with their problems, well right now I just wanted-

 _DAMN YOU MINHO WAKE UP_

My eyes flickered open, blurring slightly as the dim sunlight entered my eyes. As I began to focus in on my surroundings I recognised the brown wood panels of the med-jacks shack, the one on the beach in their so called paradise. I let my head fall back onto the pillow. Why? Why was I still here?

The door swang open, banging heavily against the wall and I was jerked out of my thoughts as someone came rushing through the door. Struggling to my feet, I hesitated when I saw who it was.

Frypan was stood there, staring at me, his eyes wide.

"Fry I-"

"No, you don't get to explain yourself. How could you do this? How could you leave me?"

"I-"

"Your not the only one who lost someone you know. They were my friends too, my brothers. And it's like you just expect everyone else to be ok, like you're the only one who's allowed to feel anything"

"Frypan, I'm sorry I just-"

"You just what? You just weren't thinking?"

"No I-"

"Then tell me, tell me why you would try to throw yourself of the cliff edge when you shucking know that there's people here you give a shit about you?"

"I JUST COULDN'T TAKE IT. I just couldn't take it anymore. All the people congratulating me, making me feel like I had survived when really i died the day they did, only they got to escape this shuck hole and i'm still stuck here"

"Yeah we all are, but we don't all let it get the better of us. You know some of us are actually trying to stay strong, for the sake of our friends?!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No, you made your decision, and you decided to leave. I just-I was only coming to see if you were ok, and you are"

"Fry-"

"Don't Minho, not yet"

It wasn't until he'd slammed the door shut behind him that i let out my breath. Instantly fresh sobs wracked my body, and i collapsed onto the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. Why the shuck did life hate me so much? Why the shuck did they all have to die? Why not me?


End file.
